


Through Water and Fire

by scy



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scy/pseuds/scy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has believed in different ways over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Water and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from 'A Beautiful Feeling' by PJ Harvey, off the wonderful 'Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea.'

**Sight**

Sam's weight was barely noticeable in Dean's arms as he automatically shifted him into a better position without taking his eyes off the house. Dad hadn't said that he was going to follow them out, but Dean watched the windows until a figure rushed outside. As Dad grabbed them and ran to the street, Dean stared back and watched the house burn red and gold against the night.

**Knowledge**

Dad reviewed the defenses in their tiny apartment over and over again until he was satisfied Dean understood the purpose of each one. He watched his father back the car out of the yard and drive away. Then he carefully checked the locks before turning to ensure that Sam was bedded down for the night. Once his brother was asleep, he'd keep watch until Dead came back.

**Sound**

As he walked out into the middle of a field, the air whipped eagerly around him as if the wind knew just where his coat didn't cover his neck and struck unerringly at bare skin. Shivering, he put his collar up and hunched his chin down, he focused on thinking really hard about being alone and easy prey when he knew that Dad was hidden nearby waiting for the signal. Dean scanned the sky and listened for the beat of large wings.

**Body**

It wasn't until he got outside the rental room and left Dad and Sam behind that he was able to breathe properly. They barely had the money to hold onto the space for a couple nights, and Dad was guessing that the local troll infestation would take a week on the outside to clear out and make sure that they couldn't move back in. Dad hadn't said anything about a problem, or how they would fix it, and his eyes had been fixed studiously on his notes as Dean slipped out the door. There was no question that either of them would ask, and the only answer he'd give would be the stack of bills creased and damp that would be handed over at the front desk before the next morning.

**Blood**

There was nobody around to give him advice, but then he wasn't asking for a rationalization. Not when he was leaning back so that the guy with smoke on his clothes and calluses on his hands could mouth at the angle of his jaw that made him groan. Scattered around them were the remains of the bar; a smashed table and broken mirror made for obstacles to be wary of as Dean was lifted onto the counter. He pushed back against the consideration; wrestling for the roughness that had brought a musician out of his gig and into the bar fight. He found the line of the man's throat and put a hand over it as he twisted one scarred wrist behind his back. When he pressed his intentions home until they broke skin, Dean was offered terms in a gasp and the shudder that only promised the struggle would continue on a different battlefield.

**Night**

The woman had been knocked to the ground, and the two guys looming over her would have been menacing even without the fangs. She saw Dean and stretched her arms out to the side as if she was bracing for a blow, but he saw the muscles in her belly tighten, so he was ready when she surged up into what was practically a handstand and then came back down with heavy boots and a stake in each hand. When she came through the dust at him he didn't give way, and she laughed approvingly. Her hair was dark and slid like water over his hands as she twisted around him, and she tasted sticky and sweet when their lips met, like fruit waiting for its season or what was left when fear couldn't hold him back anymore.


End file.
